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Cree Blue has found her dream job, but solving cold cases has landed her in the hot seat…again.

Teaching FBI recruits to work unsolvable crimes using unorthodox methods should be easy for an experienced psychic like her. But when a cold case of brutal serial murders lands on her desk, it puts her in the killer’s crosshairs and pins a target to her back.

This deadly game of Catch-A-Killer just got real.

The killer’s first mistake is turning his fixation on Cree. He shoots to the top of her personal Most Wanted list. Taunting the suspect with her quick wit and sharp tongue is as big a gift as seeing ghosts, and nothing stands between a southern girl and her will to survive.

With time running out, Cree must identify and stop the killer before he strikes again, adding her name to his victim list.

Kate is a USA Today Bestselling Author who has lived in Florida for most of her entire life. She enjoys a quiet life with her husband, Michael and two kids.

Kate has pulled all-nighters finishing her favorite books and also writing them. She says she’ll sleep when she’s dead or when her muse stops singing off key.

She loves creating worlds full of suspense, secrets, hunky men, kick ass heroines, steamy sex and oh yeah the love of a lifetime. Not to mention an occasional ghost and other supernatural talents thrown into the mix.

Evan and his friend and protector, Sadie, have a life together. Alone. Just the two of them. And that’s just the way they like it. Well, Evan, anyway. Sadie may be a dog, but she’s more trustworthy than any human Evan’s met since his accident.

Sadie thinks Evan needs a human companion. So when Casey, the social worker from the LGTB Support Center shows up to rescue Evan from himself, she puts her cunning plan into action. It starts with the little things. Like a kiss.

I admit, the dog on the cover caught my attention first — who could resist that sweet face? — but I absolutely fell in love with the characters in this story. Evan has been through so much, and has closed himself off emotionally, expecting the worst of anyone who wants to get closer. And Casey was so full of hope, and eager to give Evan anything he wanted or needed. In some ways, Casey was like an overexcited puppy, experiencing love for the first time, eager to experiment. I thought their romance was sweet, and that they were perfectly matched. The sex scenes were hot and well written, and you could feel the chemistry between the characters. If you’re in the mood for a quick, hot, gay romance, this book is for you!

Psychic Cree Blue has made a deal with the devil. To save a life and solve her cold case, she’ll have to prove that sometimes the devil is just plain innocent.

Psychic Cree Blue’s identity is a secret, and her help in solving cold cases is strictly off the record. She isn’t known for her finesse, but she’s good at what she does. Her intuition and insight have never steered her wrong.

That is until the one detective who knows her identity is almost murdered.

Cree is willing to give up her anonymity to help solve the case if the sexy, skeptical detective will let her. Convincing him is harder than dealing with the dead. After all, she’s forced to trust one irresistible cop and one conniving criminal to get the answers she needs. Will bending the rules a little give her just the break she needs to solve this case?

Kate is a USA Today Bestselling Author who has lived in Florida for most of her entire life. She enjoys a quiet life with her husband, Michael and two kids.

Kate has pulled all-nighters finishing her favorite books and also writing them. She says she’ll sleep when she’s dead or when her muse stops singing off key.

She loves creating worlds full of suspense, secrets, hunky men, kick ass heroines, steamy sex and oh yeah the love of a lifetime. Not to mention an occasional ghost and other supernatural talents thrown into the mix.

Psychic medium and amateur spy Grace Thatcher thinks she’s pulling one over on the elusive Sam Stone when she joins his dating agency to learn his corporate secrets, and to assuage her curiosity about the existence of her perfect man—whom she’s decided doesn’t exist.

Sam Stone knows a fraud when he sees one, and Grace Thatcher is a fraud. His background check only confirms his suspicions. When her meddling sisters insist the contract be voided before the fun even begins, he reluctantly agrees, even though she’s the perfect candidate to take as his date to his brother’s wedding.

Still, talking her into going with him to the wedding is easy. She’s a pro at keeping up the charade around his family and friends. The entire week should be a piece of cake, but he quickly learns that nothing is ever what it seems when a Thatcher is involved.

When dangers from his past resurface, dealing with a disastrous wedding, a guest-terrorizing ghost, and Grace’s meddling aunt are the least of his worries. He needs to survive long enough to make her realize that he’s found her perfect man; him.

Dirty cop, Travis Malloy, has kept psychic, Bliss Dougan, under his thumb for a year. But as his jealousy rages out of control, she finally finds the break she’s been waiting for. Escaping into the night after an epic fight that’s left her scared and bruised, she does the only thing she can—she hides. When the ghost of a recently deceased woman appears, imploring her for help, Bliss knows that Malloy’s dirty dealings are much worse than she’d feared, and she’ll stop at nothing to take him down.

Officer Justice Wild has always believed in the oath he took when he donned the badge, and he’s always been a sucker for a woman in need. Bliss tugs at his heart strings, even if he does think she’s completely crazy. When her insane ramblings about ghosts and Officer Malloy start making sense, he wonders if he’s lost his mind, or if he’s ready to believe in the supernatural. Justice might have been prepared to do anything to put Malloy behind bars, but he hadn’t counted on falling for the sassy psychic who won’t leave his side.

EXCERPT

Pain exploded across her cheek and through her eye as her head snapped to the side. Bliss staggered back a step, bracing her hand on the wall. With narrowed eyes, she faced her soon to be ex-boyfriend. She’d taken a lot of crap from him over the past year, but hitting was one thing she wouldn’t tolerate.

“I told you there isn’t anyone else,” she said in a near hiss. “I took myself out for lunch and a shopping trip. I needed to get out of the house.”

“You haven’t fucked me in months. If you aren’t giving it to me, you must be giving it away somewhere else.” Travis’s face contorted with rage, his skin turning an ugly shade of red. She watched a vein tick in his forehead and wondered what it would take to make it explode.

“That’s the problem, Travis. Maybe I want more than a fuck. I want it to mean something, and whatever emotions were once between us are long gone. Ever since you moved to the midnight shift, things have turned to shit between us. I can’t stand that you’re home all day every day. I need space!”

“You mean you need time to whore around.”

Grinding her teeth together, she balled up her fist and took a swing at him. He caught her hand easily enough and jerked her off balance, causing her to teeter a moment before stumbling into his chest. He gripped her hair and wrenched her head back, leaving her throat and shoulders exposed to him.

Bliss fought like a wild cat, refusing to give up or give in. Her nails raked down the side of his face, and he let out a roar before shoving her to the floor. She scrambled backward toward the safety of the next room, but he wrapped his hand around her ankle and pulled her back. Bliss kicked out at him, hitting him in the thigh. She saw the madness lurking in his eyes and knew she had to get away before it was too late. She’d waited too long to escape, and now she’d pay the price. All the signs had been there, but she’d ignored them.

She twisted and pulled herself onto her hands and knees, but he jerked her flat again, her chest against the floor, his heavy body coming down over hers. Bliss felt trapped as the oxygen was pressed from her body, leaving her gasping and praying for a way out. He placed his lips by her ear and a shiver raked her spine at his softly uttered words.

“I treated you like a princess, gave you everything. You want to fuck around like a whore? Is that what you want?” His hand worked its way between her breast and the hard floor, giving the soft mound a painful squeeze. “Want to spread those thighs for another man, sweetheart? I bet my buddies would pay good money to fuck you.”

She screamed in outrage, slamming her head back into his face. She heard a satisfying crunch and hoped like hell she’d broken his nose. For a moment, she thought she might escape, but long fingers wrapped around her neck, digging into her sensitive flesh. Her eyes widened, and she gasped as he cut off her air supply. Not one to go down without a fight, she bucked and struggled, finally managing to turn herself over.

Her hands batted at his face as she fought for breath, the world turning hazy. Reaching blindly for him, she dug her thumbs into his eyes. Travis screamed out and scrambled off her. As she sucked in much-needed air, she staggered to her feet and fled. She heard his booted steps hot on her heels and ducked into the first room with a door—the spare bedroom—and slammed it shut, twisting the lock.

Travis beat on the door. “Come out of there you fucking bitch!”

“No way in hell,” she croaked.

He beat on the door another few minutes before wandering off. Muscles strained and tensed, she listened for any signs that he remained in the house. A glance at the bedside clock told her that he would have to leave for work soon, or call in sick. She hoped like hell he went to work. It would be her only chance to escape.

When midnight rolled around, she heard the front door slam shut and breathed a sigh of relief. The bastard was gone. She waited another half hour, just to make sure he didn’t double back. He’d been known to leave and return unannounced. When Bliss thought it was safe, she unlocked the door and crept out into the hall.

Her heart still pounded in her chest as she checked the house room by room. The first thing she noticed was her missing keys. Asshole had probably taken them, thinking it would keep her home. Keys or no keys, her ass wouldn’t be here when he returned.

“He’s coming back.”

Bliss whirled, her heart leaping into her throat at the unknown voice. “Now?”

The apparition nodded. “He has plans for you. The same plans he had for me.”

“Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “Cherise Carlton. I had a nice life once, like you. Until he and his friends snatched me off the street, drugged me, and sold me.”

“Sold you?”

“I’ll tell you about it while you walk. You have to get out of here now, or it will be too late. If he gets his hands on you, you’ll wish you were dead.” Cherise smiled sadly. “Trust me; this is an improvement.”

“Where?” Bliss rushed onto the front porch, looking down the street both ways. “I don’t have a car. Where am I supposed to go?”

She’s a psychic. He’s a skeptic. Can they overcome their differences to find what matters most?

Psychic Cara Thornton’s biological clock may be ticking, but not fast enough to look twice at Cooper Cruz when he darkens her doorstep. Any man who shares DNA with her lying, cheating ex is automatically banned from her potential baby daddy sperm donor list. No way is she getting tangled in his mess, no matter how pretty his future offspring might be.

In need of help, FBI Agent Cooper Cruz will do anything to find his sister. Even if that means swallowing his pride to ask for help from the one woman his brother cheated on. If her ability is true, she’s the best chance he’s got to lead him to his sister’s location. Getting Cara to help should have been a piece of cake. He should have realized nothing about this woman would be easy.

When Cara realizes that her sister’s premonition is responsible for sending Coop’s sister running, she relents and offers to work with him to find both missing women. Surviving a battle of wills, a hotel full of horny senior citizens, and Cara’s meddling family are the least of their worries when danger is lurking in the shadows.

EXCERPT

Cara crossed her legs and let her gaze sweep over the man standing in her doorway. He looked in need of a good tumble in the dryer and a few eye drops to clear the redness from his eyes. Stubble covered the sexiest jaw she’d ever seen. Broad shoulders and muscular thighs gave him that bad-boy vibe that screamed ride me all night long. Damn, now that song would play in her head the rest of the day.

His Caribbean blue eyes were mesmerizing. His brown hair matched the icing on the brownie sitting on her desk. He’d make pretty babies. All she’d need was his sperm. Would he be offended if she handed him a cup and lifted her shirt to help him along?

“Are you Cara Thatcher?” His voice was deceptively calm, his gaze assessing. Muscles coiled in his arms, his jaw clenched, and Cara had this gut-wrenching feeling that if she answered his simple question, her life would be forever changed.

“Who’s asking?” she deflected and rose from her chair, ready to fire whatever security guard he’d slipped past downstairs. People called the workers at Linked Inc. quacks for having abilities. They weren’t the crazy ones. Crazy people were unpredictable, and…this guy, although good looking, might very well be tiptoeing the line.

His jaw ticked as he slipped his hand into his pocket. Cara kept her finger hovering over the alarm button beneath her desk. The scent of baby powder drifted to her nose, making her pause. The sweet, innocent scent was so at odds with his appearance.

The stranger’s blue eyes darkened while zeroing in on her fingers, and he slowly pulled his wallet free with two fingers as if he were a criminal trying to calm a trigger-happy police officer. “Relax, lady.”

Relax wasn’t in Cara’s vocabulary, even if he looked like a sleep-deprived, crazed daddy in need of a night off.

He opened his wallet and held out his badge. FBI? She plopped back down in her chair. The tension in her shoulders deflated, like the air in her tires the last time they’d been slashed. That crazy person had never been caught. Cara’s cheeks heated under his stare. Overreact much? Gah…“How can I help you, Agent…”

“Special Agent Cooper Cruz.” He gestured to the seat, asking permission to sit.

Cruz? The only Cruz she knew was Eric. The one that she’d dated. The same one who had destroyed her heart by stomping it into a million little pieces. That Cruz was the reason she no longer dated cops. And, although that Cruz and this one didn’t look remotely related, she couldn’t help the gut punch from having to relive the brief memories. Cara shoved the distant memories away and focused on the man she’d be addressing by his first name, in an effort to disassociate the two. It was the least she could do.

“Yes, of course. Please have a seat, Agent. Is it okay if I call you Cooper?”

Cara opened her desk drawer, pulled out her phone, and turned on the recorder. It was standard practice that she recorded everything so the authorities and her clients could review the message from a spirit or her visions later when they weren’t so emotional. It didn’t hurt that it protected her ass from lawsuits. “You don’t mind if I record, do you? I like to make sure you guys don’t misinterpret whatever it is I say.”

“Uh, sure.”

Silently she ran through her work calendar in her mind. She hadn’t had an appointment scheduled with Agent Cruz. She would have remembered. She would have canceled or pushed him off on one of her other sisters, just because of his last name. She smiled smoothly, betraying nothing of her annoyance. Her mother would be proud.

“Thanks, and sure, you can call me Coop.” He sat across from her, and his gaze traveled over the contents of her office. His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion as he crossed and uncrossed his arms. He looked one step away from bolting out the door, until his gaze landed on the “unofficial” certificate the FBI had given her for helping to pinpoint clues that led to the apprehension of a serial killer. He lifted a brow. “So it’s true? You helped catch the notorious Tri-County Reaper.”

The Tri-County Reaper was a serial killer of the worst kind. He was smart. He’d been terrorizing Florida, Alabama, and Georgia cops for ten years, disposing of his victims’ bodies inside the fresh graves of people just laid to rest. It was the last place any cop would look, and the only place where he’d left the evidence behind that had sent him away for life.

“I don’t catch criminals, Agent….Coop. I merely provide new clues for the police to investigate.”

He nodded and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. “You come highly recommended.”

Doubt that. Feed me another line. Her brow rose instantly. Her help was usually swept under the rug. Her involvement was usually the last resort, after all the leads had turned cold. Who did this guy think he was kidding?

“I only deal with missing persons or homicides. Which one are you here for?”

Coop’s brows dipped. The energy around his aura sparked out like a live wire. His emotions seemed to be bouncing off the walls, even though he remained tight-lipped.

I can’t read your mind, buddy. The words were on the tip of her tongue. She could have eased him into a false sense of security, but why bother? He might as well get a first-hand look at crazy if he was asking for a one-way ticket on her crazy train.

“Hopefully, just a missing person.”

His answered piqued her interest. She hadn’t had a good case in a month.

“Although I’m really here about your other ‘ability,’” he said making air quotations with his fingers, as if her ability was as imaginary as unicorns, the tooth fairy, and the unopened bottle of scotch in her desk drawer. She’d been tempted to offer him a shot to loosen his lips. At the rate he was talking, he’d eventually get to his problem by the end of next week.

“My other ability?” she asked, and her interest went from piqued to guarded quicker than a kid being released the last day of school before summer break. She had other abilities, but only a few select friends and family members knew what they entailed. This guy didn’t qualify as either. Someone was getting a voodoo doll commissioned in their honor. Cara clicked off the recorder.

“Yeah, you know. The one where you touch people or things and get flashes of their life.”

She knew, but how did he? Her affable smile from minutes ago slipped as she pegged him with her gaze. “Who did you say recommended me?”

“Um….” Cara pressed her lips together, biting back the words she wanted to say. Fuck you, get out of my office, and tell that sorry sack of shit, asshole-from-hell brother of yours to take a flying leap…were just a few. Her clasped fingers turned white as she tried to contain the anger bubbling inside that was on the verge of breaking free. Most days she was a professional, but that name had her sprouting imaginary horns. She should send him packing. Would a kick in the ass, to pass along to his brother, be unladylike? “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“He said you’d say that. He actually said you’d say a lot worse, and told me not to bother, but I’m desperate. We’re desperate.” His wild blue eyes searched hers. “Please, don’t turn me away because of what Eric did.”

Cara held up her hand and rose from the chair. Any more mention of that name and he was getting a first-rate show. Stuff would be thrown; hexes would be made, and she would personally toss his ass out of her office…from the window. Screw trying to maintain an adult demeanor. Her shrink would charge overtime, and she’d need bail money, but it would be worth it.

Psychic medium Quinn Thatcher would never be classified as normal. Just ask her mother. Her people-pleasing skills could use some work, which is why Quinn prefers working with the dead over the living. Ghosts take her as she is, but when people experience Quinn’s sharp tongue and sassy attitude, there is no in between. They either love her or want to throw her off the nearest bridge, with the latter being more typical. Good thing she knows how to swim.

When a Scottish ghost invades her home and insists she resolve his earthly issues, banishing his ghostly presence becomes priority number one, and a battle of wills and wits ensues until she ultimately agrees.

Her task is easy enough. Return a gem to its rightful owner and then return home, minus the aggravating ghost. Quinn should know things are never as easy as they seem.

Scottish laird Collin Menzie has lived through his share of problems and is still currently dealing with the aftermath of a fire that nearly destroyed his ancestral home. When a beautiful American shows up to return his emerald, her presence starts an unavoidable collision course, in which he questions not only his destiny but also hers.

When dealing with an annoying ghost, an emerald worth a small fortune, and a sexy-as-hell Highlander, what could possibly go wrong? Quinn is about to find out just how deadly the combination can be.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kate has lived in Florida for most of her entire life. She enjoys a quiet life with her husband, Michael and two kids.

Kate has pulled all-nighters finishing her favorite books and also writing them. She says she’ll sleep when she’s dead or when her muse stops singing off key.

She loves creating worlds full of suspense, secrets, hunky men, kick ass heroines, steamy sex and oh yeah the love of a lifetime. Not to mention an occasional ghost and other supernatural talents thrown into the mix.

Gayle Cranfield was born in London and found her forever after, Mark at the age of 14.

After nearly 30 years of being together, they have two children, both at a university, and now live in Wiltshire in the South West of England somewhere between Stonehenge and Bath.

Whilst on a road trip around California in 2013, she read some disastrous books and when she returned home decided to write one of her own. Having never creatively written a word since school, she picked up her iPad and hesitantly started to write in secret thinking she’d write a short story, before she knew it she had 97000 words!

That was four books ago. She has written three erotic thrillers for Siren Publishing and this time has written her first erotic/paranormal, The Forever Forest, and has chosen Evernight to publish it for her.

“It is great to see your work come alive,” Gayle says. “Although you have various Beta readers telling you it is a great story and a real page turner until a publishing company says ‘Yes we want your work’ you only think your friends are being nice and trying not to hurt your feelings. Seeing the front cover being emailed to me for approval is always the best part and Jay Aheer has done the most amazing job, as she always does ,with all the Evernight Authors.

The Forever Forest

A series of unusual, and unexplained murders in Bath, England, pushes Detective Sergeant Rebecca Leigh and Psychic Investigator, Gabriel Lewis, to work together.

They discover a link to a new Steam Punk nightclub, The Wolf’s Den, where owner Darius Wolf, when interviewed, disorientates Rebecca. On exciting the club, Rebecca collapses, seemingly intoxicated, leaving Gabriel no choice but to take her to his home.

She has no memory of meeting Wolf, but attraction between Rebecca and Gabriel reaches boiling point as she discovers Gabriel is not as he seems. The timid psychic is a Dominant in the bedroom and turns her world upside down, as the normally strong willed Detective realizes what has been missing in her past relationships, the submission Gabriel requires from her.

Darius, now obsessed with Rebecca, gains access to her dreams when she is kidnapped by him, leaving Gabriel having to find a passage into Rebecca’s dreams and save her from The Forever Forest.

Excerpt – The Forever Forest

“You mentioned Jekyll and Hyde earlier, I’d that how you see me?” Gabriel asked as they sat eating their pasta.

“A bit yes. You seem so quiet normally, but this morning, when we were in your bedroom, you were a different person. More forceful.”

“I asked you this morning if that scared you and you said no, but when you walked in here today you seemed very nervous.”

“Apprehensive I think is more the terminology you should be using.”

“Why?” he asked casually.

“The word dominant conjures up many images in my head. I’ve read books, and I know what it means.”

“Is that how you see me?”

“Yes.” She gulped.

“You are a very astute woman. You’ve already worked me out from this morning?”

“Yes. I’m a Detective you know, it’s my job.” She tried to make a joke, but she knew it just sounded like panic.

“The term Dominant can mean all sorts of things in life.”

“What does it mean to you?”

“I’d like you to look at yourself,” he said, deflecting her question.

“In what way?” she asked.

“You are an extremely dominant woman in your work, and I presume you are like that because you are in a very male oriented world and have had to learn to be like that. Am I right?”

“To a certain extent, yes,” she agreed.

“But I get the feeling that is not your natural personality.” He took a long drink from his glass and refilled both glasses again.

“How so?” She nodded in thanks to the wine and picked her glass up and put it to her lips. The wine, along with the food that Gabriel had prepared, was a taste sensation. “Every now and then I see Alice falling down a rabbit hole, only fleetingly, but it’s there.”

“That’s a strange analogy, explain.” She smiled as she put her glass down and picked up her fork once more.

“I know you’re good at your job and you are obviously very thorough, but I get the feeling that this persona, this hard woman, is not the real you. You have been dragged out of your comfort zone with this career and have had to learn to adapt.”

“Keep talking.” This man was good.

“You are an extremely foreboding personality and I wouldn’t want to cross you at work, but last night and this morning I saw a different side to you, a timid side, and one I’d like to explore a little further.” She went to open her mouth, but Gabriel put his hand up to stop her saying anything. “Before you jump down my throat, hear me out please.”

“Ok.” She was beginning to take offense at his hint that she was weak.

“You do not socialize with people from work, do you?”

“No, they’re a bunch of arseholes. I like a few of them, but I still wouldn’t choose to spend any amount of with them, Tanya is probably the only one I would see out of work.”

“So is that because you don’t want people to see the real you when you take your mask off?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you get home, do you close the door behind you and lock the woman away and the little girl is released?”

Rebecca didn’t say anything, visions of her unicorn pajamas folded on her bed suddenly flicked through her mind.

“I take it by that silence I’m correct.”

“Go on…”

“Let’s take another avenue. Tell me about your last relationship.”

“Er, ok, I met Harry when I was working on a stalking case few years ago. He was the victim before you ask.”

“And you started a relationship with him?”

“After the case was over, yes, I did. He was a lovely man and wanted to marry me, but it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Because I think, and please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, that you are such a force in your work and all you want to do when you get home is curl up and lock the door with a book and a glass of wine. Am I right so far?”

“Possibly.”

“Harry met you in a work environment, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“When he was possibly at the lowest time in his life being stalked, making him jumpy and needy.”

“Now you’re taking the piss.” She laughed. “You had me believing you then.”

“Look at the situation. Was it the tough DS Leigh he fell in love with, or the little girl lost that escapes to her fantasy world in books or TV?” Silence again. “How was your sex life?”

She blushed. “Good, I think.” She hated talking about her sex life as she’d discussed with Tanya that morning.

“Was it always you that took the lead, perhaps always instigated sex?”

She thought for a moment. “He was busy, always working long hours.”

“And you weren’t?”

“That’s not the point,” she answered abruptly.

“It totally is the point. He saw you as the dominant personality in your relationship and in all aspects of it, and I don’t think you are. Yes, you are dominant in your work life, but you want to be that woman who is taken care of, too.”

“I think I get what you mean.”

“So I want to explore that side of your quieter personality, not the tough CID Detective Sergeant.”

“How do you intend to do that?”

“There is one avenue I want to explore with you, Rebecca. It will probably make you very apprehensive.”

“What’s that? You’re killing me here, Gabriel. Get to the point will you?”

“I want you to submit to me.”

“What, in everything I do?” She panicked.

“No, just in the bedroom or wherever sex occurs. Your life is your own. I would not try and change that. I like that side. It’s feisty, but it is Rebecca I want to explore further, not Detective Sergeant Leigh.”

“I’m not into whips and chains and things.”

“Stop panicking. It’s not all about that. It’s about control. It can be, but that’s not what I want from this.”

“What do you want from it?”

“Basically, to Dominate you in our sex life.”

“I’m not sure about this, Gabriel. Is this something you’re used to?”

“It has been in the past, yes. It can make a very interesting relationship. Basically I want to pleasure you in every way possible, and I want to ensure that you have enough orgasms to make your ears bleed.”

“And what do you get out of this?” she asked curiously.

“To take care of you. Don’t worry, you will satisfy me, too, but my purpose will be your pleasure.”

“The perfect man?” She chuckled.

“You said it, not me.” His eyes looked over his wine glass, and although she couldn’t see his mouth she knew he was smirking behind the blood red liquid.